Eyes Wide Open
by Nighshae
Summary: Does the Airwolf team have a weak link? Someone wants to know. (Set a month or two after Fallen Angel)
1. Chapter 1

Two shadows stood behind a lonely helicopter, watching the red headed woman working near the Santini Air hanger. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. Most would consider her to be the weak link, and I want to know what she's really like when push comes to shove."

"She barely knows us, much less you."

"All the reason to do it now, when it will seem like less of a betrayal when all is said and done. She needs to know what she's in for, and what could happen in the future. Give her a chance to decide if this is really something she wants to get into before she's in too deep."

A deep breath. "When?"

"Find a reason to keep her late in the hanger tonight until after dark. We'll do it when she leaves."

"Just make sure she doesn't get hurt."

"No guarantees, but my people won't be out looking to hurt her, just scare her a bit."

The younger, shorter man let out a snort. "Famous last words…."


	2. Chapter 2

The last thing she was expecting was to be surprised walking out the door of the Santini Air hanger.

It was late, she'd taken care of some cleaning on one of the choppers Hawke was to be flying in the morning, then dealt with some paperwork that Dom had forgotten on the desk. He'd signed off on things, but not enveloped them and gotten them ready for the morning mail, so she'd taken about a half hour to take care of it.

But this meant that it was full dark when she stepped out of the hanger and turned to lock the door up behind her. There was a small light over the top of the door itself, but it didn't shed a lot of light, only a dim circle about ten feet or so that gave a person enough light to sort keys and lock up. Dom or Hawke usually come in around sunrise, and usually didn't need it to get it.

She had just turned the key in the lock to secure the door when a dark clothed arm wrapped itself around her throat.

She let out a startled squawk as she was jerked back into the darkness, dropping her purse and instinctively fisting her hand around her keys so they turned into a weapon, individual keys sticking out between her fingers as two more figures darted forward to try to pin her arms.

Years of training with the Highway Patrol came back to her in moves that were more instinct than thought out. She swung her key-armed hand at one figure who got too close, aiming straight for the hooded figure's face while her other hand came up to grasp the arm around her throat, yanking on it to give her room to breathe and try to break free. Throwing back her head, she sought to stun the man holding her from behind, and heard a muted curse from someone as she got in a glancing blow. Unfortunately, he was a good bit taller than her, and she missed his jaw. Still, he made a very satisfying thud against the wall as she pushed back against him, forcing him to backpedal if he wanted to keep his grip on her.

_At least four, and professional,_ she thought to herself, giving up her keys in favor of getting both hands around the arm across her throat, trying to get it down far enough to drop her head and bite him. They weren't dressed in black, but rather a dark, charcoal gray that blended in with the night better. Black would have actually stood out more against the dark tarmac behind them, something most novices didn't realize.

Cait let her legs collapse under her as she sought to drag down on the man's arm, hoping the move would catch them by surprise and let her drop out of his grip. It half worked, his arm loosening momentarily as her full weight came down on it, but a second figure darted forward, trying to grab one arm while a third made a grab for the other. The dim light gleamed on something metallic and slender in the hand of the fourth, and she redoubled her efforts as she realized what that was.

Hypodermic, likely a knock out drug to put her to sleep.

The man behind her got his loose hand around his other hand, hauling her back up and tightening his grip as she got a better grip on his arm and tried to kick his legs to trip him up.

This had gone from an assumed mugging in her mind to an attempted kidnapping, and she had had _enough_!

Gripping the arm around her neck all the tighter, Cait let the fourth figure get a bit closer, the two to the sides grabbing her arms even as she braced against the man behind her and brought her right foot up in what could be a deadly kick to the head if it connected.

"_Cait, no!_" came a shout off from her left.

Hawke's voice.

A curse came from behind her, the man realizing what she was doing and trying to twist to her left to break her aim, her foot getting in a hard, but glancing blow to the fourth figure's head, sending him staggering even as she and her captor tumbled to the side, the arm loosening, finally, just enough to let her slip free.

They fell in a heap, Cait letting go of the arm still half around her chest and trying to get her hands up to catch herself.

_Too late…._

She barely had time to realize she was in trouble when the ground seemed to reach up and knock her whole world into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

"She okay?" Hawke questioned, kneeling opposite Marella where she was carefully checking Cait for any sign of injury. Archangel's aid had pulled off her hood, as had Kinsey and Knight, but all three were still dressed in the charcoal gray outfits they had been wearing through the 'kidnapping'.

"I think so," she assured him, running her fingers over Cait's head. "Won't know for sure until she wakes up or we get her in for some x-rays. She hit the ground pretty hard, yes, but I don't think she hit hard enough to do more than knock herself out."

"Hawke, I'm really sorry about this," Kinsey stated, his voice low as he glanced towards where a medic was checking over his boss, of all people. "I will freely admit she caught me by surprise. I thought I pretty much had her full attention and that kick was the last thing any of us were expecting. And I hate like hell that she got hurt, but I couldn't let it connect; I had to do what I could to break her aim. There's no way in hell he could _see_ it coming and if she'd landed that blow with a little more force, it would have seriously hurt him."

Hawke nodded. "I know," he stated just as softly as two men came forward with a gurney to carry Cait off. Knight was staying out of the line of any possible fire, collecting Cait's purse and keys, making sure the door was properly locked and the like.

The plan had been pretty simple: Knock her out, take her to a FIRM facility and interrogate her until she broke. They'd all been through it, even Hawke when he'd first started working for Archangel and again when he'd joined the Airwolf project. Weak links couldn't exist in the intelligence community; they had to know what made people tick and know how long they could hold out if they were caught.

Michael had gotten ahold of all of Cait's Highway Patrol records, including the reports on the same sort of thing _they_ had put her through. She'd done well there, well enough to be working alone out in the middle of nowhere on flight patrols, but working for the FIRM was a lot different from working for a police group.

Leaving Cait in good hands, Hawke moved to where a senior medic was checking Archangel's left cheek and temple with careful fingers. The man was wearing a black eye patch instead of his usual glasses, and muttering under his breath as the medic's careful fingers brushed over the bruise growing across his cheekbone, but he didn't flinch away. "He okay?" Hawke asked the medic.

"I don't think she cracked the cheekbone or skull, but I'm sure he's gonna have one hell of a bruise for a while," was the medic's reply. "And probably a headache right now to boot."

"Yes, and your 'bedside' manners aren't helping it any," Michael growled. "Obviously I need to spend more time in the sparing ring."

"You've learned to compensate for the lack of vision in everyday situations, but not under combat," Hawke agreed, his tone merciless. "You either need to learn to do it right, or keep out of the field and trust your people to do what they need to do without you."

Michael glared at him at the criticism, but they all knew that Hawke was right. And even with the ice pack that the medic handed over, they all knew he'd be sporting that bruise for a few days to remind him of it. "What the hell went wrong? I clearly missed a move somewhere," he admitted. "Is the operation salvageable?"

"She pulled that kick, so I'm pretty sure she heard you yell, Hawke," Kinsey stated, shaking his head as he joined them. "I was trying to spin her away, but I had no room to back up because of the wall, and her kicks were violent enough to pull us all over. If I had been able to let go of her by then, she would have hit the ground even harder than she did. I think we've blown our chance with her this time, but we might be able to pass this off as a kidnapping and rescue so that she doesn't realize what was really going down."

Both men considered that option, then Hawke shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea at this point."

Archangel grimaced, then winced at the pain that caused his face. He got the ice pack into place to numb the skin, but the medic was shaking his head. "You're for the clinic, sir, you both need skull x-rays to be sure nothing is cracked." The man caught Hawke's questioning look and answered it before his boss could talk his way out of things. "His skull was fractured at Red Star, the docs had to rebuild the area around the cheekbone and eye socket, right where that kick landed. It's only been about a year, so even a glancing blow could do some considerable damage."

"It's fine, just bruised," Michael insisted. "I would know if anything had cracked, I'm sure."

Hawke was shaking his head, though. "Come on, I'll fly you up to Knightsbridge," he told Michael. "Docs can get you checked over and out of the way before Cait arrives."

Archangel growled at that, but gave in, settling into the Santini Air chopper for the short flight home and walking down to the small, but well equipped clinic there.

It didn't take long for them to x-ray Michael's skull, and the doctor was assuring them things were fine when they brought Caitlin in. Michael slipped away to change while Hawke watched them check her, returning in a white shirt and pants as she also got a clean bill of health from the doctors and was moved to a comfortable room to recover with Marella with her to wait things out.

"I should wait and take her home," Hawke admitted as they shifted to Archangel's office.

Michael, however, shook his head as he poured them both coffee. "No, I want to talk to her in the morning when she's awake, then I'll have one of the ladies fly her to the hanger," he stated. "You're right about one thing, Hawke, and that's that she needs to really think about what she's getting herself into if she continues to stick around with you. I take it you and Dom are actually interested in getting her up to speed on the Lady?"

"No, mostly we've been discouraging her and trying to talk her into going home."

"It could be useful to have a third, and give you more flexibility but that's up to you," Michael admitted, moving around to his chair with his cup while Hawke took the chair in front of the dark oak desk. "However, at this point I don't have a lot of assets I can spare to help you train her beyond offering the gym to work out in as all our other contractors do, and I'm not sure the wisdom of that right now. You might do better to rent some mats to put in the hanger, work with her there and keep her away from the FIRM."

That caught Hawke's attention. "Problems?" he questioned.

"You could say that. I'm getting a lot of push from above to either arrest you and force Dom to tell us where you're hiding Airwolf to get her back, or find some way to track you two to where she's hiding and bring her in. Either way, the Joint Chiefs and the Committee demands to recover Airwolf are getting louder."

Hawke snorted. "None of you would be able to keep her from being stolen again, and you don't have anyone who can fly her," he pointed out. "Truth be told, Michael, she's safer with us than she is with the FIRM."

"Something I've pointed out to Zeus and the Committee, but the Joint Chiefs are ignoring me completely. I may be out of touch for a while trying to cool things down, just to warn you now. Don't be surprised if that's the case, and if things are pretty cool when we do see each other. I'm being all but accused of helping you hide her."

Hawke shifted uncomfortably, since that was a bit close to the truth to be completely honest. Michael, he knew, favored keeping the Lady in Hawke and Santini's hands if only for the comfort of knowing that no one was going to steal her again and come gunning for him with her a second time.

He wouldn't ask, and the spy would never admit it if he did, but he was pretty sure that Michael still had nightmares about Red Star to this day.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking with a headache and no clue where she was wasn't Cait's favorite way to start the day. She carefully sat up, glad that someone had left the overhead lights off and only a nearby lamp on or her head really would have been pounding.

There was a soft tap on the door, and she turned towards it, immediately on guard as it swung open. She relaxed when she saw who it was. "Marella," she breathed with a sigh of relief.

"Good, you're awake," came the reply with a kind smile. "How's your head?"

"Aches, but not pounding," she replied, considering the last thing she remembered. "Who were the guys at the hanger? I heard Hawke shout, but I'm not sure where he was…."

"He was hanging back, hoping that what happened wouldn't happen," Marella admitted wryly. "You're one hell of a scrapper, Caitlin."

"Some judo, some karate, a bit of this and that," Cait admitted. "Wait a minute… you mean I was set up?"

"Michael will talk to you about that shortly," Marella told her, setting down the two mugs she'd brought in with her by the light. "Let me take a look at you first, then you can grab a shower if you want before we go up to his office. Hawke brought by your spare set of clothes out of your locker a little bit ago."

A little exasperated, but at least a little more in the know, Cait turned to sit on the edge of the cot and answered her questions as Marella checked her over thoroughly. She took the bag that Marella handed over and the mug of coffee with her into the bathroom, enjoyed a good, long, hot shower, then dressed, brushed out her hair and came out to join her again. Breakfast was waiting by then, a tray with a fine omelet full of onions, peppers and ham, which she loved, along with toast and oatmeal. Marella had a similar tray, and they talked over different aircraft they'd both flown while they enjoyed the quiet meal.

Finished, Marella took her up several floors through an area that looked halfway familiar, then down a strange hallway to an open office space with a door that clearly led into an executive-style office.

Dropping off Cait's bag beside the desk closest to the door, Marella went to knock on that wooden door, then opened it at the call of 'enter' from inside and motioned for 0Caitlin to enter.

The inner office had two doors off of it, one huge window that looked out over the grounds, a computer console to her left and a small sitting area with couch and chairs to her right, but her attention was immediately drawn to the large wooden desk in front of the window and the man in white seated in the chair behind it. Marella motioned her to one of two chairs in front of the desk, the one that would be on his right from where he was sitting, allowing him to see Cait clearly.

Michael turned around completely, leaning back in his chair, and gave her a wry smile as her jaw dropped at the sight of his face.

Running from just over his mustache, up over his cheek and under the blackened lens of his glasses, the bruise was still very dark from the center, working its way out through purple to red along the edge. "Ow," she murmured, flinching in sympathy. "Sorry."

His lip twitched with wry amusement. "Don't feel guilty, I consider it a wake-up call and I have time scheduled with a trainer starting tomorrow. If I'm going to keep getting into tight spots and courting trouble, I need to learn to deal with my handicaps. I've already had quite a lecture from Hawke on them this morning."

She considered that. "That's almost worse," she finally stated, then sighed. "So, yah all was testing me last night? I thought I was done with that kinda thing after I left the Highway Patrol."

"I could not, in good conscious, allow that to happen," Michael told her gently. "Miss Caitlin, I'm going to be very, very frank with you about a few things, and I want you to go home this afternoon and really consider your options and make some decisions about what's best for you with your eyes wide open."

He leaned forward in his chair, crossing his arms on the desk and studied her intently. "First, I'm not doing this to make you uncomfortable, I'm doing this to make you think, just as last night was to make you stop, and think. Think about what you know, what you don't know, and what you might be getting yourself into. You walked into dangerous situations when you worked for the Highway Patrol, it's part of the job description. It was walking _into_ one such situation that led you to meeting Hawke, so I can understand why you might think you can handle what you think he and Santini are doing. But I don't think you know the full story, and there are some surprising facts you may not know or understand." He paused, watching her expression. "You already have questions. Now's the time to start asking them."

She nodded. "Dom said, when they're flying the Lady, they have no friends, and even the US military is against them. Why?"

"Because they don't legally have control of her," he replied, leaning back in his chair as Marella rose and brought over coffee for all of them. Sitting down, she watched Cait listen with rapt attention as Michael told her about Red Star, the attack, the damage and the dead, Moffett's actions and how Hawke had been tasked with finding and returning the helicopter. He didn't gloss over the Committees mistakes, or his own, and he didn't gloss over Hawke's attraction and love for Gabrielle and the pain he'd suffered at her death. His expression softened. "In the end, Hawke tried to spare me the pain of knowing the truth, but we were able to recover her body, and I made myself read the autopsy report. I know she was raped, abused, beaten and tortured to death."

"It's part of the risk we take," Marella told her softly. "We work for Archangel, and we all know that we could share her fate in the end."

Caitlin shook her head sadly. "Dom told me Hawke had loved someone and she died. He didn't tell me how."

"It was the second time Hawke had lost someone," Michael explained. "The first was a long time ago, she was killed in a car accident that he survived. Gabrielle was the second such loss for him, and he took bloody revenge for it. Moffett, when Hawke caught up with him, was blown to bits," he finished, his voice growing harder with the last sentence, and Marella's look was one of intense satisfaction.

That caught her by surprise. "You're both glad of that…. You wouldn't want to see him brought back to face justice?" she asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral to try not to offend either of them.

"'Justice' is what put him with our group to begin with," Marella told her. "The project before ours, he did the same thing to ten women at White Sands. But he was a genius; they slapped his hand and sent him to us to build Airwolf without telling us what he'd done. Hawke served real justice that day, avenging them, Gabrielle, Angela, who she had replaced, and about thirty people who died at Red Star when Moffett blew the place up. Michael and I were among a handful of survivors. Literally."

Michael let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again. "The price Hawke and Santini pay for flying the most incredible aircraft in the world, is high. The military of virtually every government on the planet wants to get their hands on the Lady, and there have been some pretty diabolical plots to try to recover her."

"Was Germany one of those?" she asked. "It didn't seem like it, from what I was told."

His look grew more wry as he leaned back in his chair again. "No, that was a trap to destroy the FIRM, and I was an _idiot_ and walked into it," Michael admitted frankly. "The men behind that were old enemies of mine, and they knew just how to play me. I can only thank God that Hawke was up on his game, realized what was going on and stepped in to save my ass that time."

"There might have been some self-preservation there to, sir," Marella pointed out, gently. "If you were put on trial and executed over what happened, who would have been left for them to work with? Their entire support structure would have been gone, and I'm not at all sure they would have let me take over your seat."

"Which is why I've worked to make them as self-reliant as possible," he agreed, nodding, then leaned forward again. "Here's the point I'd like you to think about, Miss O'Shannessey, and think about what it could mean for you in the future. Hawke and Dom hold the Lady illegally. Their 'deal' with me is, in the strictest letter of the law, also illegal. I _should_, by law, be seeking to jail them both and recover Airwolf. I will tell you honestly that I have no intention of ever doing so, and I am, to this day, doing everything in my power to find Hawke's brother and bring him back to the US, dead or alive. Now, the question you need to ask yourself and think carefully about the answer is, can you turn your back on the law you've represented in the past to help two renegades continue to break the law, even in the name of national security? Because no matter the outcome, what they do just by flying the Lady is illegal."

Caitlin blinked, sitting back in her own chair and considering his words as he watched her a long moment, then nodded. "Marella will fly you back to Santini Air, and I've been told to tell you that you have the rest of the day off, Santini expects to see you in the morning."

She nodded, standing up with Marella. "Who should I give my answer to?" she asked quietly.

"Talk to Hawke and Dominic about it," he advised. "I'm going to be out of touch for a while, I'm afraid. Just remember, you're under the radar right now as far as the Feds are concerned; they believe you're just another pilot working for Santini Air, and there's no danger to you in that. But if you decide to work with the Lady, eventually there will be a target on your back as people decide you could be the weakest link in the chain, and move in on you."

"That's what last night was really about, wasn't it?" she asked. "To see if I am the weak link."

His hand moved up to delicately touch his cheek even as he responded, a reminder of how quickly a sure thing could go wrong. "Yes. You acquitted yourself very well last night, I will admit that freely. But will you be so lucky with someone else, next time?"

"If it hadn't been for Hawke's yell, I wouldn't have pulled that kick," she told him. "Your guy twisted me around, yes, but not enough that I would have missed you completely."

"Something I am well aware of," he assured her. "I'm just glad Hawke was there and your reaction time is excellent, or I'd be in our local clinic with some pretty serious injuries right now. As I said, last night was more of a wake-up call than I expected it to be.

"Now, I've given you a lot to think about today, so Marella will take you back to the hanger so you can get your car. If you have questions, ask Hawke and Dominic, I think you're in enough that they'll either answer you outright, or pass them on to me to get the answers for you."

She nodded, rising with Marella to go out, then paused, looking back at him for a moment as he studied her in turn. "Did you do this to Dom, too?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Korea did more to Dominic Santini than I would ever consider doing. His war record is well known to me."

Cait thought of Dom's stories, nodded, and followed Marella out.

The flight was quiet, Marella easily handling the white helicopter for the short flight back to Van Nuys. She had just gotten her landing clearance to land at Santini Air when Cait finally formalized a question. "Hawke and Archangel…. Are they really friends?" she asked as Marella touched down.

The question seemed to startle her a moment, but she smiled as she thought about it, watching Cait unbuckle her seat belt. "The dapper and dashing, high class American spy and the rugged, reclusive combat pilot who plays the cello for an eagle?" she stated. "Friends?"

The two women looked at each other, eyes dancing, then went 'Nah!' together before Cait burst out laughing, got her bag and left the helicopter, keeping her head low as she gave Marella a wave and headed for the hanger to find her purse and head home.


	5. Chapter 5

Hawke watched Caitlin leave her car, locking up and heading towards the hanger as he set down from his own morning commute. Dom was off getting a final check on his back, so he wouldn't be in until after lunch.

He had been out when she'd come through the day before after Marella dropped her off, and Dom had been too busy to say anything more than 'hi' and thank her for taking care of his paperwork, so neither were at all sure what her decision about working with them was going to be. Michael had talked to them the night before, however, and he felt that the decision was up to the three of them. "Whatever you decide, keep it low key and close to the vest," Michael warned. "She would be a good choice if you want a third, yes, but I would prefer you keep her out."

Truth was, Michael had been right and having a third person on their team could make things a whole lot easier. At the very least, if she was in the know but not going out with them, she needed to learn more about the business to be able to handle Santini Air while they were gone. And having her know how to reach Michael or his people could be a bonus if something went wrong.

He took the time to shut down and secure the helicopter properly since the weather report was for afternoon showers with some wind, giving her plenty of time to get inside and have the coffee on by the time he finally made it in to join her. With nothing on the books, it was just the two of them for the morning, and they took turns with making the coffee according to who made it to the building first.

She looked up from the percolating pot as he came in. "Morning," she called to him brightly.

"Morning. How you doing?" he asked. "Any trouble yesterday? That was a pretty hard knock you took."

"Marella checked me over when I woke up, said everything was good. Had breakfast with her, then had a talk with her and Michael." She blushed a little pink. "I think he came out of it worse than I did."

Hawke snorted at that. "Better he start learning now how to handle himself than get himself killed in a situation he isn't prepared for later," he stated bluntly. "Looking at that shiner you gave him for a few days will be a reminder that he needs the training that he's been avoiding. Man's been in denial for a year, pretending that the loss doesn't make any difference. Pretty sure he's put in time on the firing range, but that's been it."

"Even I spend time on the firing range, and I'm pretty sure you and Dom do as well, though I've never gone out with you. I'd like to see what you two are handling at some point."

Hawke nodded, leaning back against the door frame. "You've made a decision," he stated.

She smiled. "She's dangerous, yes, and so is the work, but she's beautiful and how could anyone who calls themselves a pilot walk away from her?" She paused, watching his expression. "You're not going to try to talk me out of it?" she asked, eyebrows going up in surprise at his easy acceptance.

He ducked his head for a moment, then looked back at her again. "Michael pointed out to me that having a third could make our lives a lot easier. Course, we've had to turn down a mission or two of his because we both couldn't get away from this place to do it, and a handful had to be delayed. If you're up to speed with the Lady, I can take you with me and leave Dom here with the business."

She considered that. "Will you teach me to fly her?" she finally asked.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then nodded. "Dom will be in at six tomorrow, we'll do the same. Nothing on the books until one, though, so you and I'll go out to the Lair and take her out. My arm is up to flying now, and you can start learning to fly her and learn the countermeasure position at the same time."

"Countermeasure?" she repeated, head tipping to the side questioningly and frowned. "The third seat?"

"Is the countermeasure specialist," he explained. "That seat is redundant, really, Dom can run it from the engineering station, but there are times when it's handy to be able to split it up. You stick with it, you'll wind up being the most versatile of the three of us and able to do any seat on the Lady. I'll need to teach you some combat flying as well." If the idea of fighting in the Lady didn't scare her, nothing would, and he watched her reaction closely. This, more than anything, would tell him if she would be safe to train or not.

That did indeed bring her to a dead stop. "Combat…," she murmured. "I hadn't… thought about that," she admitted after a long moment of thoughtful silence.

He watched her think it through. "Have you ever had to kill someone, Cait?" he asked gently, though his expression was completely neutral.

She nodded, slowly. "A couple of Mexican drug smugglers once, a Coyote who was beating a little girl who couldn't keep up another time. They didn't take me seriously because I was a woman and they gave me no choice."

He wanted to wrap an arm around her shoulders in support, but refrained. "A lot of times, we don't have a lot of choice either," he told her. "So think about it…. If it comes down to us or them and you're on the stick in Airwolf, do you think you can pull that trigger?"

She looked at him, thinking of the death she'd seen already from his hand at the controls, then thought about the people he'd killed. "If they deserve it, if they're hurting others, yes."

He nodded, slowly. "I hope it's always that clear cut for you, Cait," he stated. "But, sometimes, it isn't, and you don't have a lot of time to make choices."

She looked troubled, but shrugged. "I'll deal with it if it comes up," she told him. "Are you going to tell Michael I'll be flying?" she asked.

"Nope," was his immediate reply. "I think we're going to need to keep even him in the dark for a while, let him think you've decided to sit things out. Might be safer for you in the long run."

Her frown grew more worried. "He said he might be out of touch for a while, that he's been under pressure to retrieve the Lady. Do you think he'll be all right?"

Hawke smirked. "Man survived being on the firing range in front of the Lady," he pointed out, pouring them both coffee and heading out into the hanger itself. "I doubt that dealing with the Committee is going to bother him too much in comparison."

Cait had to admit he had a point...


End file.
